Humorous Freestyle Shadowrun - Totemic Riddle Red Riding Hood
by Wayward AMP
Summary: An omniscient narration, formally 3rd person omniscient, written in a drunken stupor. My 2nd drunken-muse file in a decade, as I only drank due feeling guilty of not offering one in English, too. Pietroschek Prose crossover of how a Red Riding Hood Shadowrun might be botched, ahem, written. Jolly Foolification? Yep, seems I just invented that one.


**Totemic Riddle Red Riding Hood**

© Andrè M. Pietroschek, my rights reserved

Revision 1.01

Shadowrun-Saying: "Wolf wins all fights, except the last, and in that one he dies!"

Foreword: Dear readers, this brainstorming, omniscient tale was written in a drunken stupor & will become an excerpt. It is more than one more Shadowrun story, or maybe I was dehydrated on day of deciding. It started at WDC, when I read the wonderful and _new to me_ interpretation of "Red Riding Hood – A Tale of Terror" which we Germans, translated-back, just knew as Redcap or "Rotkäppchen". Disgusted by certain setbacks at WDC I had ignored the idea. Guess, what ran on TV that week? No bluff, the interesting performance of Amanda Seyfried. Oh and late night song in the radio, when I went to the toilet? Yep. The Spirits had called me, Veteran Shamanic Worrier, or some-such.

The Place & Setting: Fairy Tale Forest-Village with a Church. It may have a harbor, yet all incoming ships unleash only stranded strangers, and all outgoing ships have next stop Bermuda Triangle. The Heli-Pad is under construction for decades already, funds are limited. Gun-Lore is pretty simplified too: There is the Ares Deerstalker Musket, the Remington Blunderbuss (Shotgun), Ruger Corsair Handgun, and Colt Pirate-Hunter Handgun. Both latter are no-ammunition-clip two barrel pistols. The pocket realm is high magic therefor Cybernetic-Implants cease to exist. The Matrix is comparably simple, too. There is the Mayor's data fortress and the Virtual Church Vault. Just so that you have a minor guidance along the trip.

Music: If music is mentioned, then for the option of reading those song-lyrics, or listening to legal copies of the song. Some readers could be positively surprised how it can boost atmosphere.

And so it happened that on that fateful day:

Seventeen year old Sonja had accepted the only available Shadowrun of the day. The Johnson's, Mom&Dad, had insisted that she would sign-up for the solitary mission without hesitation. Get the pick-nick basket, and deliver it safely to Grandma in her forest witch-house which all must call her beloved hut.

Now our Sonja was not the village mare's twin. No, besides having the body of a voluptuous porn-star, the skills of a Shadowrunner, and the school grades of a half-genius she had as well common sense. She equipped her Armored Red Hood and the Combat-Shock-Gloves for the totally unexpected chance of encountering villains or danger.

Sonja was not a Sissy. Her classmates had hacked into the Mayor's secret database, and besides having spread some money, they had seen the Legend of the Heroes. Henceforth Sonja knew that her Shadowrun had a pretty good start. She had ventured through the village occasionally greeting the working people or acquaintances.

Then she had made the slight upward curve along the path to the forest. Of course she had not failed to give her smiling regards to Sarah, wife of lumberjack Carlton. And neither had she hesitated to do a small chat with Jacob, who was the Chief-Hunter and Chief-Ranger of the area.

Quite good on her schedule she had reached the secret forest path to Grandma's beloved hut. It was then that a big black wolf appeared alongside the way! Knowing no limits and with the proverbial wings of success driving her on Sonja had juggled a sausage out of the pick-nick basket and tempted the wolf with it. While the canine beast fed she spoke gentle words to it, and stroke its fur. Oops... that were her good intentions. Sadly though she had been sloppy with the Shock-Gloves during last maintenance session, as she had spied on Abigail from across the road meeting her lover.

Shock-Gloves were meant to give off an amount of electricity on impact to render potential assailants unconscious. In this unfortunate and unwanted case her malfunctioning right glove had given-off the complete dosage for all ten supposed shocks and the electrified wolf smelled a little bit scorched before its stiffened shape went soft; collapsing. Apologizing to the wolf Sonja had marched on in blissful ignorance, giving no first aid to the agonized beast, as she was quite eager to finish her duty and deliver the basket to Granny. This irresponsible and selfish decision would come back to haunt her though!

"Grandma, I came to bring you a gift on this wonderful day!" called Sonja.

;-)

The door of the beloved witch-house opened and Grandma Donna Garibaldi, the former Queen of Palermo and Little Italy; stepped out to greet her dutiful offspring.

"Sonja, Dear, what a pleasant surprise! Straight after I threatened to cut your parents off from the money they have decided to send you here with an appeasement gift!"

Sonja never understood those familial remarks of Granny, yet she loved her grandma and happily handed her the basket.

"Oh grandma, wouldn't it be safer when you live with us in the village? Your isolated homestead is easy prey for burglars and predatory beasts."

"Pah, its another Home of the Brave, Silly." Granny replied while quick-drawing her two handguns.

"We can't just leave the place unguarded. The illegal brewing of alcohol alone earns us a fortune, and as long, as they must fear my wrath, the smugglers won't cheat us too much."

"Oh Granny." replied the astonished, and traditionally quite confused; Sonja.

Donna Garibaldi went back into her beloved homestead, and returned soon thereafter with a platter full of coffee (Espresso) and cake (Tiramisu).

Like old people tend to do on occasion she talked on about worries and plans in her head.

"See that field over there? Marihuana does only grow in small numbers, accursed weed. And there! After the cocaine plant rotted away we only have a handful of ephedrine plants left, barely enough to keep the pub running."

"Oh Grandma you are such a wise and god-fearing woman!" proclaimed Sonja, who did not know a more proper word to say.

Donna Garibaldi chuckled. "The holy book? Yes, that was a damn smart coup, though I had help, and boasting is against the Omerta!"

"Oh Granny, as soon, as I have graduated at college, we just do it! We get a ship-passage to Italy and visit your sister Omerta?"

As usual the Donna was sure that only if the Devil would possess moon-calf Sonja there could still be any hope left for her.

Sonja had accomplished her Shadowrun and wanted to return home now. She did bid farewell to her granny as the sun was sinking and venturing through the darkness was indeed most unwise!

Blessed woman she was she arrived at home unscathed. Eagerly grabbing her handful of Nuyen for the accomplished Shadowrun, and then returning to her room to do Karma-Point-Spreading Yoga.

Yet the world had not stood still while Sonja, the sadist animal-abuser, had gone unpunished. Eric Dumbson had been one of countless stranded strangers. A former criminal and prison-escapee he had fled into the woods. Just that he was on a special trip. In prison he had read an article about vision quests. Now, years later, he had need for such. He knew to become a Shaman one needed certain Totemic experiences. He knew as well that the own personality was a minor reflection of what kind of totem would be more or less sympathetic to a want-to-be shaman as well. He had restrained from food since yesterday and had washed himself in the cold river waters. Ritually prepared he was on his vision quest when the Spirits gave him a sign.

A blonde teenage harlot in a red cloak had lured a wolf with a sausage and then, faking sympathy, she had electrocuted the poor feeding wolf! Just like the prison wardens had done it to end his psychotic rushes. Just like the prisoners had done it to him whenever they needed a bitch.

Eric felt spiritual zeal rise within him. He knew what to do now! The Wolf-Cult had been born. Gathering the like-minded, and initiating them into the totemic avengers, Eric Dumbson worked over-shift to fulfill his calling!

At first his mob of wolf-crazed ganged-up on the old woman in the witch-house. Overwhelming her easily, plundering, and feasting in the first rush of victory.

Second; he had disguised as the old woman, giving a cryptic warning to Sonja when she returned for another delivery.

Third; his cult received firearms from the smugglers who were made an offer they could not deny.

Finally the totemic-crazed assaulted the village, burned down the church, and caused plenty of bloodshed until both sides were pretty decimated, and sick of it. Eric Dumbson and the Priest among the Fallen. Some of the survivors swore that during the aftermath of the slaughter a woman clad in red was seen boarding a ship!

THE END of the base version as excerpt. An extended revision is possible.


End file.
